Sometimes we expect things to be difficult. Some things intrinsically are; editing a book, for an example that is not at all relevant to me in anyway and is entirely hypothetical and stop interrogating me.
And sometimes we expect them to be difficult and they aren’t, like that phone call you’ve been putting off expecting it to take hours, but it’s done in minutes. That’s always fun.
Then there are the things we expect to be easy. And they’re not.
This morning I had that in the form of my workout. I saw the instructor and thought, OK, this shouldn’t be too bad, it will be yoga-ish. Ah, wrong.
It was hard. So hard. Much harder than I expected.
And while I was doing it, I was mad that it was hard. Because for some reason that defies logic, I’d decided it shouldn’t be. Which made it harder.
Workouts are as much a mental challenge as a physical one. Pretty much everything we do in life requires us to get our brains on board, and when we fight it, it just becomes all the more challenging.
Should we assume everything is hard? Should we reserve judgment?
I have no idea. All I know is that my expectations colored my experience. What if I’d gone into the workout expecting it to be at least as challenging as the prior two days?
I guess I’ll never know.
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